


Coping

by Dagonet (TsukikoCurrier)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Post V-Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5303162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsukikoCurrier/pseuds/Dagonet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a Kingsman had changed a lot- but it can’t change habits formed through years of experience. It can’t change vices and coping mechanisms. Not immediately, and not if you don’t want the change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping

Eggsy never put too much gravitas on how shit his life was. What was bangin’ on about it gonna do but bring everyone else down? No point.

          It is how it is.

          And, sure, Ryan and Jamal gave him the sympathetic pat on the shoulder and shared whatever vice was on hand when they were together; but that wasn’t the same. It was the kind of thing only someone whose life was just as shit as yours was could do. You can’t support someone when your foundation is made of sand and spider webs.

          You can barely support yourself.

          But you can sit in the same room an exchange the phrase “man, that’s shit” like it’s currency, imagining and hoping for a better tomorrow. You can sit and recover from the latest blows, physical and otherwise, that life has dealt you.

          Being a Kingsman had changed a lot- but it can’t change habits formed through years of experience. It can’t change vices and coping mechanisms. Not immediately, and not if you don’t _want_ the change.

          After V-Day, after the mess of it had been cleaned up a bit, Eggsy spent what felt like eons trying to locate his friends. He hoped beyond anything that Ryan and Jamal had made it through V-Day alive. Not untouched, that would be ridiculous, but alive would be miraculous enough.

          He searched for weeks what with all the hospitals filled past bursting- there were so many dead that some areas still smelled like it, especially those of the lower class- but he found them. Curled together like kittens huddled close for warmth, in what had likely been a shop front before V-Day. They looked too small, too still, to be the people who had kept him alive through years of numbness. He ran back to the Kingsman cab he’d taken for his search, pulling free the changes of clothes and blankets he’d stashed in the back seat; after something as awful as this, the last thing they’d want to do is go home.

          He would know.

But maybe they’d come back with him.

          ‘Ryan? Jamal? It’s Eggsy.’ There had been some faint stirring at the sound of their names, but at the sound of his own they’d sprung up, bags beneath bruised eyes, but arms still strong around him. They shook, not unlike their withdrawals all those years ago, but they were _breathing_ and it took all of the strength left within him not to fall to his knees.

          ‘Eggsy, mate, we thought you was _dead-_ we spent _ages_ looking for ya but no one’d heard from you. Your mum said somethin’ about some bird callin’ her right before shit went mental, but she hadn’t heard from you since you’d apparently gone off to rip Dean a new one.’ Ryan spoke at a mile a minute, half muffled by his face being pressed to Eggsy’s chest.

          ‘Except you apparently never made it to that part, just threw some words and drove off- Dean was raving ‘bout it to anyone who’d listen down at the Pr- Pr- the pub.’ Jamal wasn’t as loose with his lips, but his eyes revealed his worry; they were wide and shocked and not a little bloodshot. It was obvious that the two of them had been through a lot- he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been at the Prince when the waves had started, which would explain Jamal’s inability to say the name. He’d done a lot on V-Day, but he hadn’t had to lose control like that. Who knew what they’d done.

          But it wouldn’t do to try and compare sufferings. Never went anywhere.

          ‘Come on, guys, I know a place. I have blankets and clothes and shit here, but I’m second guessin’ letting you lot settle here, and I think we all need a drink or twenty.’ Eggsy shuffled back awkwardly, not entirely willing to pull away from the two even with how difficult it was to hold the piles of cloth in addition to the shivering bodies of his friends. They were worth the small bit of inconvenience.

          They let him corral them into the car, gravitating towards one another despite the relative roominess of the car, and Eggsy threw the blankets and such atop them without a care. They were safe, they were alive, they seemed to be relatively unscathed- but he knew all too well that the worst wounds weren’t always physical.

          He brought them to what was Harry’s house. _Was_. The word felt like acid. Eggsy opened the door and ushered them inside, and went back to the car to get the things he’d stuffed in there for his quest. He pulled a number of bottles of their traditional ‘our lives are absolute shit’ alcohol, the clothing and blankets from before, and an unhealthy amount of snacks from the backseat; nothing posh. Traditional, a habit, something they could fall into easily even with all of the changes that had happened in the year he’d been off training at Kingsman and all of the shit that had happened around V-Day.

          He didn’t really expect to find his best mates standing awkwardly in the foyer, but he should have. They’d never been in a place this nice unless they were in the process of a robbery (needs must, y’know) but Eggsy nudged his way past them with the pile of things in his arms and threw the blankets onto the floor in the living room before tossing the clothing one article at a time at their heads- pants and all.

          ‘You two reek; go wash up. Upstairs, second door on the left; together or apart I couldn’t care less just clean yourselves up and get back down here. We’ve got traditions to uphold, an’ all that.’ He smiled, and the two of them stare at him blankly for a moment before scampering upstairs.

          ‘The hell is this fancy shit, bruv? I can’t even figure out how to turn it on- oh, wait, looks like we got it.’ Jamal seemed a bit more relaxed, and Eggsy sighed softly, pulling out his phone and ordering a couple greasy pizzas and arranging a proper nest in the sitting room

          He’d resolved to tell Ryan and Jamal about everything- nothing about anyone else, no one _alive_ at least- that he’d done; the truth of his involvement with V-Day. They’d always been honest with one another and he saw no reason for this to be an exception. Merlin and his rules and regulations could hang, these two were better to him than any blood-family had ever been; they were better than blood, they _chose_ to be there and that was worth more than gold in their circles.

          Jamal had been the first one to notice his bruises from Dean, the first one to offer sanctuary- Ryan had offered to teach him how to use cover-up “it ain’t girly shit, Eggsy. It’s gonna save your neck and you’re gonna fuckin’ thank me when it does.”

          He didn’t bother pulling out plates for the pizza- those had always been a needless luxury when these things happened- just put the boxes atop the blankets. He pulled off his jacket and toed off his kicks before flopping gracelessly onto the sofa.

          He hadn’t done much after he, Merlin, and Rox had gotten back after V-Day. They hadn’t been able to find Harry’s body, so they buried an empty coffin on the Kingsman grounds and moved on. There wasn’t much else you _could_ do, other than move on, in a situation like this.

          They’d managed to get the previous Lancelot’s body from Valentine’s base, why he’d felt the need to keep it all that time was anybody’s guess, and with it came a bit of the melancholy he’d expected but hadn’t experienced at Harry’s funeral. The sham.

          Percival and Roxy had stood near each other in relative silence, Percival looking more bruise than person, until they’d approached the coffin together. They’d barely pried open the lid before Percival’s knees had given out, pulling Roxy down with him; the lid had slammed shut. No one had the heart to move them; no one had wanted to disturb a mourning that was long overdue. Eggsy hadn’t known that Percival was her uncle, or that the previous Lancelot had been his long term partner, until that moment. The two of them didn’t bother to hide or wipe their tears, they watched the casket eventually be lowered with sticky cheeks and the ground soaked beneath them.

          Eggsy hadn’t even known the man, but he had shed a tear or dozen for his loss.

          He’s pulled from the past by a hand on his shoulder, and looks up to find Jamal holding out a bottle. He takes it blindly, bumping it with his and Ryan’s, before taking a swig and shuddering. Just as shitty as he remembered it being; and he was glad for it.

          ‘What’s with the posh pad, bruv?’ They both look better for having washed up, but Ryan was still the more talkative of the two.

‘That’s a long story, mate, you sure you want me to go first?’

          ‘The two of us have gone through each other’s shit already, Eggsy, and no offense but I think we’d both like to hear somethin’ new before hashing it all out again.’

          ‘Alright, alright; well to start off with after I got arrested they let me off. I used that miracle medal I always wear, called the number on the back and hoped for a miracle- they was gonna give me 18 months for that stunt with Rottie’s car, no way I was leavin’ mum and Dais’ with that maniac.’ Jamal and Ryan nodded in agreement while Eggsy took a swig from his bottle. ‘I went to the Prince with the bloke that broke me out; turns out he knew my da- one of the guys he saved, y’know? Well, Dean’s goons show up and make some comments and instead of leaving this guy just beat ‘em all up with his _umbrella_.

          ‘I ain’t gonna deny being a bit turned on by that- he was _scary,_ but it was brilliant. Way different seeing somethin’ like that from the outside, you know?’ They nodded, not looking entirely convinced, but that was okay. This was about getting it all out, not about convincing them of something they probably wouldn’t understand. Eggsy went on and on, talked about training and the dickheads he’d competed against. He bragged about his successes and glossed over his failures, like any sane person would, until he got to the dog test.

          They wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t sympathise... but they’d support him- they always had before.

          ‘I couldn’t shoot my dog, so I failed out. JB hadn’t done anythin’ wrong, I just- I _couldn’t_ shoot him. I couldn’t even hit that bloody fox with Rottie’s car! That’s when I went off to beat some sense into Dean- I’d just fucked up my chance of gettin’ us out of here; I was mad. Real mad. But Harry fuckin’ took control of the whole bloody car through an _ipad_ and locked me up inside before driving it here so he could yell at me.

          ‘Turns out the whole fucking training had been rigged. That bird who’d drowned had been a plant and was fine, you already know I’d had a ‘chute the whole fucking time, and that gun had had blank fucking bullets. Arthur pointed that gun fucking jollily at my face and told me to shoot my dog and it hadn’t had any bullets in it and I’d fucked everything up for nothing.’ He’s already on his second bottle, and he chugs the rest of it before opening a third- the alcohol had made it a little easier to say everything, but the world was still crisp and clear and that just wasn’t on.

          ‘So Harry and I have a row, right- and man I don’t think I’ve ever felt more shamed, bruv- and he shows me his stuffed dog in the loo and I accuse him of havin’ my dad stuffed and hidden somewhere-‘ The other two draw in sharp breaths, and Eggsy looks down in shame. ’Yeah, I know, that wasn’t righ’ of me, and he looked so _broken_ and asked me if I could see that he’d done all of this, saved my arse and proposed me for Kingsman and _everything,_ for my dad.’ There was a beat of silence, Eggsy silently convincing himself to continue while Ryan and Jamal pressed themselves on either side of him.

          ‘An’ then he went off to Kentucky to investigate some Valentine shit. Something going on at some bigot church- turned out to be a test for V-Day. I saw it all through his laptop, and let me tell you it was the most elegant display of violence I’d ever seen- like a ballet but way more blood.

          ‘He died, after surviving crazy Americans and guns and bigots and Valentine’s tech he got shot in the _fuckin’ face_ and I watched the whole thing. I saw it happen. Through his specs. It was like I’d been shot in the head but somehow _worse_ cos I could see the sky and hear them talkin’ after. I had to keep going, knowing that the last thing I’d ever said to him had been that argument. I’d accused him of having my dad, the man who jumped on a _grenade_ for him, stuffed somewhere in his house and he went off and died. I never even got to apologise. Not properly.’ Eggsy wiped his face with the back of his hand that wasn’t holding a bottle. He could not remember when he had started crying, could barely remember to breathe, but he continued on despite the knot in his throat and guilt heavy in his chest.

          ‘I went to Kingsman, don’t even remember why at this point it cos wasn’t like Arthur was gonna go “Oh, an agent just died, let’s just give his spot to that kid I hate!” but I went to tell him ‘bout Harry dyin’ and he said we was gonna share a toast to his memory. He was a bit of a prick, but I couldn’t have imagined him sellin’ out his society of posh bastards to Valentine.’ Overdramatic gasps come from either side of him, and for half a moment Eggsy imagined that he was telling a story, that he was reading a faerie story to a group of children and they were really into it as opposed to retelling the tragedy of his recent life to the only people who had ever understood him.

          ‘He had that scar with the chip that explodes people’s heads- who knew how long he’d had it, all I really know for sure is that he sent Harry to his death- so I switched the glasses. If nothin’ was up, no harm done- but it saved my skin. None of my training did that, I used what we learned together and when he flipped the switch on the pen... he died. I killed him, and I enjoyed it.’ If Jamal or Ryan were disgusted with him they didn’t show it. They didn’t even flinch.

          Eggsy didn’t have the excuse of the SIM cards, of Valentine’s wave; he’d done it fully in control of himself. They didn’t pull away, or say anything; they just sat there and wrapped an arm each around him, pulling him as close as they could. If someone else had walked in it would be difficult to say where one of them ended and the other began, they were so tangled together. Eggsy wasn’t usually very tactile, he’d not had enough positive physical experiences not to flinch when someone came too close, but he had no words to express how thankful he was. They held him together, grounded him while he shattered, and though they were all broken differently he felt like their shards still fit together.

          ‘Except that weren’t the end of it, Arthur had that scar and who knew who else had been tainted, so we needed to stop this psychotic culling. I mean, the world migh’ be shit, but who’s some billionaire to decide who lives and dies, yeah? So I had to drag the old bastard’s corpse down through the shop and use his handprint to get to the tube. Straigh’ up Weekend at Bernie’s’d him, it woulda been funny if he hadn’t been covered in blood. Got held at gunpoint while they made sure I didn’t just kill the geezer for shits and giggles, and then we hopped in a plane.’

          ‘Ryan said i’ earlier, bruv, but this is gettin’ more ‘n more like James Bond. Y’sure you’re not havin’ us on?’ Jamal was obviously trying to make him feel better, bring some humour to the situation, and Eggsy shoved him into the pile of blankets in retaliation. This, of course, started a wrestling match interspersed with lots of giggling- it was lucky that they’d managed to polish off their latest bottles. No messes to be cleaned, just yet. What felt like hours later Eggsy continued on, breathless and more dizzy than a lack of oxygen could explain, talking about the base straight out of an old spy film, the pretentious martini he’d ordered, knocking out the Swedish Prime Minister, all of those foot soldiers he’d killed, telling Merlin to activate those implants...

          ‘And then I had to kill that bitch with the sword legs, she’d have been an _awesome_ street dancer, she almost got me instead, y’know? Those poison shoes really saved my arse, barely nicked her arm and she went down for the count- fastest actin’ neurotoxin was _right_. I ain’t ever more grateful for Harry breakin’ rules than I am when the things he showed me save my skin. Anyway, I popped her leg off and threw it through the broken window at Valentine.

          ‘I guess he was one of those guys that vom when they see blood- he was covered in it when I went to check the body. And, yeah, I did the stupid quip thing- I’d just saved the bloody _world_ I think I was allowed a bit of fun- and then I went to bum the Princess of Sweden.’ It was said very frankly, and it got more of a reaction than anything else he’d said that night. You talk about going to spy school, killing a man, so much violence- but mention a bit of tail and they’re all over it.

          ‘What d’you mean you just went off and bummed a Princess. That blonde girl on the telly, the Princess who went missing, you just up and went “Well, I’ve saved the world now, guess I’ll go bum the Princess of a country I’ve never been to!” What were you _thinkin’?_ ’ Ryan threw his hands up in the air, clearly done with Eggsy’s shit, but all he managed to do was throw himself enough off balance to fall over.

          ‘Oi, it wasn’ like that- she _offered_! And I said I went to- not that I did.’ This was met by confused looks, Ryan from the floor and Jamal from his perch on the arm of the sofa. Jamal was at catlike as ever, seeking out the highest place in the room to perch on. Seemed like all they’d needed was a fair bit of alcohol to really settle down in the posh house.

          ‘What’s the difference, mate-’

‘You couldn’t get it up?’

          ‘No lube?’

          ‘Hey there, Princess, just saved the world, think I can do you real quick? Don’t mind the blood and vom, it’s not mine. Maybe the bubbly will loosen you up for me, don’t have much else but those exploded heads outside.’ It’s an awful impression of him, overdramatic arm movements and obnoxious eyebrow waggling, but it set Jamal off laughing and that was worth _everything_.

          Eggsy couldn’t have thought them more like Fred and George Weasley if he’d tried, in that moment; he’d have laughed if he wasn’t so caught up in remembering the past. Was it really only a few weeks ago? As it was, he let them chatter amongst themselves, taking the piss out of him, till it petered out naturally.

          ‘Unfortunately an adrenaline drop is one hell of a mood killer- shock only lasts so long, y’know? I was so up for i’ and my body just decides it’d be better off havin’ the shakes and everything just hit at once.’ The good mood was over, they were back to the sombre way they’d begun, and Eggsy was finally feeling lighter.

          People always talk about feeling lighter after getting big secrets off their chest, but Eggsy had never understood before- he’d never had a secret that weighed on him as much as V-Day. He also assumed it was his mind and body finally letting it sink in that Jamal and Ryan were okay. They were alright.

          ‘Got home after all that, and spent every spare moment looking for you lot. Now, that’s my story, what happened with you guys?’ Eggsy wants to melt into the nest of blankets, but instead just leans against the bottom of the sofa and pops open another bottle- he’s incredibly glad he thought ahead and bought a good twenty of the things.

          ‘Well, nothing as excitin’ as you, that’s for sure.’

          ‘We was gonna go down to the pub for a pint, needed to decompress- dad pushed me down the stairs again-’ Eggsy held up his bottle for a silent toast, raised an eyebrow to Ryan’s shrug, and tried to surreptitiously check him over for injuries. It’d been quite a while since then, but the three of them had never been much good at going to A&E when they needed to; there was no way to do much at this point, anyway, but it was better to know.

          ‘He pushed me down the stairs again, but I wasn’t all that banged up this time- learned from last time, didn’t I?- so we were gonna hang out. Weren’t even all the way down to the pub before that shit started.’ Ryan shuddered, curled in on himself like a pill bug hiding itself from the world.

          ‘There was a ringing in my ears and all of a sudden I was lungin’ for Ryan like he was my mum on a bender.’ Jamal’s voice was hollow, dead, and Eggsy could do nothing put pat his shin in sympathy- the only part of him he could reach- and Jamal swayed dangerously close to falling off his perch.

          ‘It was like when people talk ‘bout out of body experiences, mate; I could see all of it happenin’ but I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even want to. I saw my dad’s face on whoever was closest; I knew I could get away with it, so I just did it and _fuck_ if it weren’t satisfying in the moment. Didn’t care about the blood or any pain I mighta been in.’ Ryan still sounded animated, vaguely, but he was looking blankly into space- obviously not seeing what was in front of him.

          ‘Felt like Ginny Weasley possessed by _Voldemort_ bruv.’ Jamal chimed in, ‘Was like I woke up- except with my hands covered in someone else’s blood and my ribs not letting me breathe proper.’

          ‘I’m glad we didn’t do too much damage to each other- but... I don’t even know how many people I hurt. Or killed. I looked down at my hands, and looked for Jamal, and by the time we’d made sure the other was alive it’d started all over again. It’s just dumb luck that kept us from killing each other.’ Ryan shook his head, and took a long pull from his bottle. Eggsy realised that they were nearly out of booze, but this didn’t concern him as much as the looks on his friends’ faces. They were going to crash after this, hard, and have god awful hangovers in the morning. But they would be together.

          ‘Some lady bumped into me just as I’d thought about stranglin’ him, I got her instead. She looked more like my mum than he did, more rage, just about clawed her eyes out.’ Jamal whispered the last bit, somehow more ashamed of remembering the details than admitting to the horrific things he’d done under Valentine’s influence.

          ‘He didn’t look enough like my dad, so I hit the first bloke that did. I got a fair bit of shit kicked out of me, but it weren’t any worse than a regular day back home, swear down. Didn’ break anything, luckily, but I had a fair few gouges down my arms. Looked like I’d had some rough sex with none of the fun of it.’ Ryan was obviously more at ease with what’d happened, with what he’d done; and if Eggsy thought they’d be able to stand the posh arses at Kingsman he’d propose Ryan for Tristan’s position. Maybe get Jamal as a driver. They _had_ lost a fair few Knights- mostly due to circumstance mid-mission when the wave went out- but Ryan wouldn’t want to be around this kind of shit all the time.

          There were only so many ways you could reconcile murder, after all, and Ryan had probably used all his up. Jamal had probably never had any to begin with.

No, Eggsy would leave his lives separate.

          ‘That fucking sucks.’ It came from a mouth filled with crisps, crumbs falling into the mess of cloth beneath them, but that didn’t make it any less sincere.

          ‘Well, yeah, but what’re we gonna do ‘bout it? Just gotta keep movin’ forward and hope no other psycho gets the same idea.’ Jamal had clammed back up, but Ryan was as talkative as ever, and Eggsy feels so grateful to the universe for them. That they were spared, that in the chaos that took hundreds of thousands of lives (a fair few of them directly Eggsy’s fault) the two people he needed most in the world had come out of it relatively unscathed. Way more mental scarring than anyone should have, but just about on par with the rest of humanity.  

          Together they pulled Jamal off the couch to tickle him mercilessly, mutually deciding that they were done with this conversation, and eventually drifted to sleep in a pile of limbs on the floor- far more comfortable than any abandoned warehouse had ever been.

          They weren’t alright, and they probably wouldn’t be for a good long while, but together he thought they could be.

Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find me on tumblr at [AgentDagonet](http://www.agentdagonet.tumblr.com)


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